


False fire

by writerfan2013



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, I'm going to miss this show when I run off the end of netflix, Reveal!fic, Romance, merthian, slight sauciness just because
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 14:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5131619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerfan2013/pseuds/writerfan2013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She appears a little bewildered," said the dragon to Merlin. "Should I stun her?" </p><p>"No!" said Merlin, but the beast breathed on Mithian and she felt herself topple. The last thing she knew was the warmth of Merlin's arms and his curses as he lifted her onto the dragon's back. </p><p>Mithian x Merlin, adventure, reveal!fic. Hope you like it, and please review! -Sef</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Seen at speed, a landscape is hard to understand. Trees lose their names, and where every stone and stream could tell a story, instead there is a torrent of meaningless colour and sound.

Mithian opened her eyes. She was riding astride, and Merlin sat behind her.

"Rest," said Merlin. His arms were clamped around her waist. She must have fainted. It seemed she was not as tough as she hoped in the moment of crisis.

The sky was sideways. She could not make sense of it. And the noise, why did their horse huff like an osprey over a puffin pool?

Merlin pressed his chin to her temple. He was warm and strong, and his voice was laden with power. "Sleep," he said, and although Mithian had just glimpsed leathery wings and the wooded ground impossibly far below, she closed her eyes and slept. And dreamed of how she got here.

* * *

Mithian was almost glad when soldiers leapt from the undergrowth and attacked her party. She was returning to Camelot, escorted by a selection of Arthur's most courteous knights, and his least gallant manservant. Her mission had been, once again, to find a suitable husband, and it had been, once again, unsuccessful. The attack seemed like a mercy.

The prospective husband had been even less suitable than most. He had power and lands - and grandchildren. Mithian rode away lonelier than ever.

She found herself often beside the servant Merlin as they rode. He was as solitary as she, and his wry silence was a comfort. He rode with easy skill, the reins loose in his right hand, his left hand resting on his thigh, he and the horse working together. When Mithian grew bored and spurred her horse ahead, her fine hunter should have easily outpaced Merlin's workaday mount, but he kept up, without acknowledging the skill this involved, or seeming to notice that their impromptu races took them beyond the sight of the guardian knights.

And so the attack was behind them when it came. Shouts and the clash of swords rang through the forest.

Merlin wheeled his horse around. "Morgana's soldiers," he said, and something like anger flickered in his eyes. Then he focused on Mithian. "It's you they want. A pawn to be used against Camelot in her war."

Mithian pressed her glove against her horse's neck to soothe the animal. "I won't be used," she said.

"I know," said Merlin, bringing about his horse. He shook his head at the sounds of battle. "Run," he said, and they put heels to their mounts and fled.

"This way," cried Merlin. He jumped to the ground, and dragged Mithian from the saddle. Side by side they crashed through brambles and young hazel, Mithian slashing with her stiffened arm at trailing growth, Merlin barging a path with brute force, to a large open clearing.

Merlin paced around, casting narrow glances at the afternoon sky.

"We can't hide here," Mithian said, grabbing his arm. He had always struck her as clever, with his bright eyes and fearless honesty, but to remain here, exposed, was madness. "Come on. I have a knife in my pouch, I can fight-"

"It's all right," he said. He patted her hand on his sleeve. His fingers were covered in scratches from their flight. "I'm going to call on an old friend."

"Will he have an army?" she asked. "Because we're going to need one."

He didn't answer, but pulled her to the edge of the clearing. Yells from nearby told her that their pursuers were at hand.

"Oh god," said Mithian.

"Trust me," said Merlin. "Do you trust me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

His eyes glinted. "Always. Say the word and we'll run again."

She shook her head. "I still have that knife."

"No need," he said. "Stand back."

Mithian shrank against an oak as Merlin stepped into the glade. And as she watched, his stance altered. The round-shouldered shuffle of the passive underling disappeared, and in its place was the square stride of a king, of a man of action. Mithian frowned.

"O Dragon!" cried Merlin in an awful voice. And then he spoke words in no language Mithian knew.

The beast which appeared had ancient skin and amused golden eyes. Its wings spanned the breadth of the glade and it's great about turned towards Mithian. "A female," it observed in a voice as dry as sand. "You are indeed growing up, young warlock. No longer the awkward boy but a man in the prime of his life."

"Shut up," said Merlin. "We need you to carry us out of here."

"To Camelot," said the beast, as if it was quite usual to act as porter for servants or princesses.

"No," said Merlin. "Princess Mithian is in danger. Take us somewhere secret and safe."

"I see your idea," said the dragon. "Are you sure the time is right for this?"

"If I am ever to be happy," said Merlin, "what choice do I have?"

The beast harrumphed like a doubtful old uncle. "Then climb aboard. My lady," it added, turning its golden head towards her.

Its breath smelled of the furnace, and its skin glowed like Merlin's eyes. "You are magical," she said, and she was thinking not only of the dragon but also the man who stood at her side.

"I  _am_  magic," said the dragon. "Can you not recognise power when you see it, lonely maiden?"

Mithian glanced at Merlin. His jaw was set and he held the dragon in his gaze. At his sides his hands were easy and relaxed, the beast fully at his command. "I can," she whispered, and it was as if a burden was carried away from her heart.

"She appears a little bewildered," said the dragon to Merlin. "Should I stun her?"

"No!" said Merlin, but the beast breathed on Mithian and she felt herself topple. The last thing she knew was the warmth of Merlin's arms and his curses as he lifted her onto the dragon's back.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Mithian let Merlin believe she was still asleep as he manoeuvred her down the dragon's scaly side, but when he slid his arm around her to carry her bodily, she opened her eyes. "I'm here," she said. "Where are we?"

Merlin released her hurriedly and stepped back, brushing his hands together. "Well. An eyrie."

Brisk wind chilled Mithian's cheek, and she knew they were high in the mountains. Beyond the dragon's bulk was only grey mist.

"Goodbye," said the dragon in a voice like dry coals. "Doubtless you'll call again when you want to get down."

"Thank you," said Mithian. "For your help."

The dragon paused in the act of spreading its wings. "You are welcome. But beware false fire. Most of life is pain."

Before Mithian could form a reply, the beast leapt into the air and away.

Mithian blinked at their surroundings. A black stone ledge formed a shelf on which the dragon had landed. Beyond that and behind Merlin a cave loomed, whilst in front... Mithian peered cautiously. "Oh!"

Merlin beckoned her away from the edge. "It's mostly sky. Don't lean over."

She backed away.

"These are the dragon caves," Merlin said. "Long ago they were where dragons raised their young." He gave a wistful smile.

"You  _called_  that dragon," Mithian said. "You commanded it!"

"I am a dragon lord," he said. "The last one. The only one. Come inside, I'll get a fire going."

There were no trees in sight. The mountainside was bleak black rock. "Have you got any food with you?" Mithian asked. "I've only got a bit of cheese." She patted the pouch at her belt.

"Sounds great," said Merlin. He disappeared into the cave.

Mithian lingered, her hunter's eye scanning for berries, leaves, lizards, anything which might form a more substantial meal. And her mind was racing.

A dragon lord and a dragon eyrie. Well. This was more exciting than husband hunting. She was tired of that game, more than tired. It seemed she might die a maiden before she found a suitor who was both powerful and personable. That was a hard search to begin with - and the longer she traipsed around the country with Merlin and the knights, the harder it got.

Perhaps it was time to find an alternative. There was always religious retreat. Mithian winced. No nun's cell could keep her satisfied. She was too vigorous, too headstrong, and her lands of Nemeth were not rich enough to tempt religious orders - the same problems she had making marriage contracts with powerful princes.

She had no answer for this. But at least for tonight, there was an adventure, and in agreeable company. Daylight was fading. The precipice was already blurring to a treacherous grey against the grey sky. Mithian ducked into the cave and saw Merlin tending a small fire.

She glanced about. Definitely no firewood.

"I've got some water," Merlin said. "And there are some boughs of heather we can use to sleep on."

Mithian settled beside the flames. "Someone carried heather all the way up here? And where is the nearest moorland exactly?"

"Um."

"Hmm," said Mithian. But she took out her small pouch. "Here. Let's split the cheese and be as comfortable as we can, dragon lord."

Merlin eyes went wide as she spoke his title. "Mithian ..."

"What did the dragon mean about false fire?" she asked. "Was it a warning? Can I trust you?"

"Always," he said. "Nobody knows of this place. Or the dragon. Only you."

"So perhaps you should be asking yourself if you can trust me," she said.

He bit his lip. "If I cannot, it is already too late."

She pondered. His secret could certainly get him killed. Yet he was powerful too, that much was clear. Powerful but fettered by duty and the law. That she certainly understood. And he had chosen her as his confidant. "I think the dragon's warning may have been for you," she said.

Merlin gazed at her across the fire. His hands hung across his knees, his fingers forming restless shapes before the flames. "It was for both of us," he said.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The cheese was soon gone. Mithian could have eaten it again, could have eaten half a hog after the events of the day, but she said nothing. What could Merlin do? Outside, night gathered darkness to itself and closed off the cave. The impossible fire brought the only light

"Why are we here?" Mithian asked. " We'd have been just as safe in Camelot."

"Morgana's magic cannot reach us here. And I need time to think, to work out how to defeat her."

Mithian studied him. "You're serious," she exclaimed. "Merlin. It's not your job to defeat Morgana. Arthur has his strategy."

"Leave it to the kings," Merlin said bitterly. "But the kings don't have magic and Morgana does. It's why she keeps winning."

"She's a cheater," Mithian agreed. "So even the odds. Use your dragon."

"I can't." He plucked a twig which had fallen from the fire and thrust it back into the flames. "That's not how it works."

"It looks that way to me."

"It's complicated. You couldn't understand."

She jumped up and stood with her hands on her hips, glowering down at him. "What rubbish! Obviously you think I could understand or you wouldn't have brought me here, wouldn't have shown me the dragon in the first place."

He was silent.

"Let me help you," she said. "If you want to use the dragon but keep it a secret, all you have to do is persuade people that whatever the dragon did, breathe fire or what ever, is a force of nature. A storm. A lightning strike."

"But people will know. It will be obvious."

Mithian shook her head. "People are desperate for an end to this war. They will ignore a dragon to obtain peace. It's like loneliness. Everyone can see it, but really it doesn't exist until you acknowledge it."

She crouched down again, and placed her hand on his arm. "I'll help you. I'll stand next to a dragon and swear it isn't a dragon, if you'd like. You've been given this power. Don't be useless. Don't sit around hoping that things will work out. Take action. Make a decision."

"You're not useless," Merlin said.

She flushed.

"Anyway the dragon isn't my biggest problem," he said.

She burst out laughing.

"What?"

"You're full of surprises, Merlin," she said. And secrets, she thought. How do you hide a dragon? What else might Merlin keep concealed behind those kind blue eyes? All those days in the forest, riding at her side, his silence had seemed like sympathy. But perhaps it was only caution, and she realised she was disappointed. "I've never known anyone like you," she said, and it was true.

He gave a short laugh. He turned his face toward her, and Mithian was startled to see unhappiness in his eyes. He glanced down at her hand, still on his sleeve, and then back to her face. The campfire crackled as a draught took its flames higher.

She punched his arm. "What is this other problem, that's bigger than a dragon?"

He opened his mouth, closed it again. Long moments passed. The flames cast shadows over his face, one half bright, one half darkness. Thoughts swirled in Mithian's mind: no firewood on the mountain, and Merlin always beside her when she needed him. She thought about how she rarely heeded warnings. At last Merlin said, "I'm sorry."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to tell you. I thought I could tell you. But I can't. It's too much. I -" He gestured bitterly, his face angled towards the dark.

"It's all right," said Mithian. "I think I know." She leaned in and kissed his cheek. He was warm, and smelled of woodsmoke, and apples. As her lips touched his skin she saw petals in her mind, white blossom and a free blue sky. Then the vision was gone.

Mithian sat back. Merlin was goggling open mouthed at her. She smiled. She could never have touched him in sight of the entourage, down in the ordinary world. But he had brought her here, far from all that, and she had followed her impulses and surprised him, and she was glad.

"Actually," said Merlin, "that wasn't what I was going to say."

"Oh." Mithian grew hot with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. Aren't I the fool."

"No," said Merlin. He touched his cheek where her lips had been. He was about to go on, when a piercing shriek cut off his words. He scrambled up.

"What was that?" cried Mithian.

She ran with Merlin to the mouth of the cave. All was dim outside, but against the blackening sky great shapes wheeled in the air, diving like seabirds, screaming like nothing Mithian had ever heard.

"Wyverns," said Merlin.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The screaming wyverns wheeled in the air beyond the lip of the ledge, their bodies indistinct in the gathering night, their cries as piercing as thorns. "They must be Morgana's, searching for us," said Merlin. "Get behind me."

Mithian ignored that request. "They look like...dragons. Can you command them?"

"Not really," said Merlin. "They are a distant relative of dragons. My power doesn't extend fully to them but I can try."

He drew breath to begin his echoing dragon cry, but Mithian stopped him with a hand on his arm. "They have not yet found our position," she said. "Let's not announce it."

"You sound like Arthur," said Merlin.

"Hunting is mostly hiding," she said. "Oh."

The wyverns' cry changed in pitch and grew nearer. A moment later Mithian felt the draught on her face as the beasts dived at her.

"I'll send them away," Merlin said.

" All right," Mithian said. "But, you know how you found that heather which was left here?"

"Yes..." His expression was slightly too slow at assuming innocence.

"Can you look around and see if you can find a bow, and a full quiver of arrows?"

His eyes grew wide, and afraid. She smiled sweetly at him by the light of the fire. Warily he nodded, and ducked back into the cave as Mithian counted her prey.

Merlin returned swiftly. "Found this," he said, handing her what semeed to be her own bow, last seen in her trunk at Camelot. Impossible, of course, but there was no time to think about it. Mithian set the first arrow into the notch and drew back. "Is there a leader?" she asked him, for it was sense to use his expert knowledge.

"The largest," said Merlin.

"Right." Mithian fired, and missed. "Damn." She took aim once more, let fly the arrow and the biggest wyvern roared, then spun out of view beneath the level of the cave. A moment later she heard a crash as its body thudded into the scree far below. "Next," said Mithian, and took out another arrow.

She dispatched them all in rapid order. He stood beside her all the while, his body angled as if ready to shield her, although he held no weapon. When the last beast fell, Mithian turned to him and they clasped forearms like comrades, and shared a smile of simple pleasure at an enemy defeated.

But then a greater cry ripped the air. "Into the cave!" said Merlin, shoving Mithian aside.

"Why are you so convinced you can protect me?" she said, shoving back. "I've got the bow." She stopped, as a shape the size of a siege engine filled the sky. "That's no wyvern," she said.

"It's Morgana's dragon," said Merlin grimly. "I can command it but..." He did not bother to finish the sentence, but darted forward and bellowed, "O Dragon!"

The dragon opened jaws and instead of flames, there was a crack like lightning, and purple dust exploded over the ledge. Merlin got a face full of it as Mithian thrust her sleeve over her nose and mouth.

The dragon rose, and spat fire right at them.

Miriam jumped back. Her bow crumbled into ash in her hands. She flinched away, and saw Merlin still spluttering from the purple dust. "Your hair!"

"It's nothing," he managed between coughs and gasps.

But she grabbed him and batted at his scalp. Racked with coughs, he could not resist. "Ow!"

"You were on fire," Mithian said. Soot and purplish powder covered her hands.

"I couldn't feel it," he said in surprise, his voice hoarse. He felt his head. "Thanks." The word came out as a croak.

The dragon hovered in front of the cave entrance, beating its wings.

"We can't let it land or it will roast us," said Mithian. "Command it!"

"I..." Merlin's voice cracked. He swallowed, massaging his throat. "I."

The dragon's eyes gleamed with evil red fire. Mithian thought desperately of anything they might use as a defence. "Merlin..."

He was shaking his head. His eyes widened and she saw fear, fear from this man who had stood weaponless, defying a dragon.

"Please. Merlin."

But he sank to the ground, his hands at his throat, his eyelids fluttering as he slipped into a faint.

* * *

Morgana's dragon screamed again. It was landing. It was not as large as the dragon which had borne them here, and would easily be able to crawl into the cave. Inside, there was nowhere to run. The dragon's fire would finish them off in two blasts.

Mithian drew her knife. "Well, not many options left-"

Beside her, Merlin was awake, but coughing and retching, bent over on hands and knees. As Mithian raised the knife to throw it, he lifted one hand and stretched it out in front of him like one warding off evil. His eyes pleaded with her but she ignored him and ran to the ledge. "Take that, you bully!" She waved the knife around, feeling its weight and balance. Then as the beast lowered its head to slay her with flames, she threw the knife, the blade aimed at the dragon's scaly throat.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

_Author's note. This is an extra section added after some feedback from a reader. The new stuff begins after Mithian kisses Merlin at the end of chapter three and continues until the start of chapter six. This is to give Merlin and Mithian a bit more interaction, which I felt they were missing. Still not sure if it works! Let me know. The story's end remains the same. -Sef_

* * *

It was the most perfect throw she had ever made. The knife would strike the dragon at the very spot she aimed for, the vulnerable windpipe, to sink deep into the unnatural flesh and end the beast's life instantly.

As she watched it fly she felt the blade like an extension of her own will, striking at the life blood of this creature threatening her. She thrilled with the hunter's glee, the certainty of a kill and the satisfaction that it was well done. It seemed for a moment that the knife vibrated as it sped to its target, surrounded by a golden glow.

But the blade went wild at the last second, and sliced only the creature's lower neck, a nasty wound to be sure but not fatal.

The dragon fell back flapping and spiralled, howling, from the ledge.

Mithian cursed.

She crawled to the precipice and peered over but the darkness obscured any view of the dragon's fate. She waited, ears alert for any clue, but it seemed that the threat, for the moment, was over.

She turned to go and saw Merlin on his side in the dirt, one arm still outflung. "Merlin!" He was half conscious and trembling. She threw her arm around his shoulders and dragged him into the cave, where she lowered him to the sandy floor. The water skin lay nearby, but when she put it to his lips he only coughed. "Drink," she said, with the command of a queen. She forced open his mouth and splashed water in. It dribbled back out, clouded with purple dust. But the sensation had brought him round. He opened his eyes.

"That dust got to your throat," she said. He nodded and gestured weakly. "Lie still. I don't know if it's better to make you drink or make you cough it up." Merlin solved that for her by lurching away and spitting great gouts of purplish water onto the dirt. When he was done, Mithian drew him back into her arm and supported him, trembling, while she held the water skin once more to his mouth.

He drank, this time, and seemed revived. He stretched out his arm and scratched letters into the dust.  _Enchantment_.

Of course. Morgana's creature would come with its special dangers. "I only wish I'd got it," she said.

He shook his head. He was trembling like a wolfhound pup Mithian had once rescued from its careless mother, and like the pup, was striving to overcome his shivers.

She tightened her arm about his shoulders. Merlin was a riddle: as gentle as a dog by the hearth, as fierce as a wolf facing bears. But even wolves need comfort sometimes. She rubbed his arm to calm the tremors. "You would let it live?"

A nod.

She treated him to the withering glare she usually saved for a horseman who has bragged about his skill and then fallen off his mount at the first jump. "Why?"

Merlin swept away the scratches in the sand and wrote afresh.  _Lonely._

She pondered this.

"It's hard to be different," said Merlin in a hoarse voice.

Mithian sighed as realisation came. "You did this for the great dragon's sake, not the smaller one."

He nodded, and coughed again, but not as painfully.

Mithian shook the water bottle. "There's enough. Have more." He motioned for her to drink. "Finish it," she said.

He took a swallow and seemed a little improved.

"Pity for a dragon. You have a kind heart, Merlin," said Mithian. "And yet the world is not often kind to you, I think."

He eased free of her arm, his shivers slowly lessening. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and sat apart from her.

Mithian cleaned soot from her hands and wondered. How do you know kindness, when you have been given none? She gazed at Merlin, his head bent, black hair falling over his brow, his thin, strong hands draped over his knees. She could not see his eyes, only his dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheek.

How do you know love, when you have never loved before?

"The world is not a kind place," Merlin said. He poked the fire with a twig and the flames leapt higher.

"No, but people can try to make it so," she said. She leaned across and gripped his shoulder. "I will try," she said.

"I'm not a good person to practise on," Merlin said with a miserable laugh. He glanced at her, and away.

"There was someone in the past," Mithian guessed. "Someone you loved."

Merlin went still, his shoulder tense under Mithian's palm.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

Merlin's mouth moved a little. He drew breath and shook off deep emotion. "She died," he said.

"I'm sorry."

His mouth twisted. "It was more than that. She was killed. Hunted through the streets, and the death blow was struck in front of my eyes."

Not many crimes warrant such punishment. Mithian waited.

"She had magic," Merlin said. "And she was... cursed. It was the curse that made her dangerous."

Mithian took this in. To discover that your lover was a magic user - awful, for that meant death. But something in his manner told her there was more to this tale. "Did you know?" she asked. "About the magic?"

He glanced up at Mithian, his head still lowered. "I rescued her from a man selling captured magic users. That's how we met."

His kindness again. His mercy for those he thought as hopeless as himself. "You saved her," Mithian said. "But you must have realised her crimes, that she would be condemned to die."

"We are all condemned to die," said Merlin.

* * *

Mithian let her hand drop from his shoulder. "We are not condemned to live without hope," she said.

The fire was burning low. It was full night now, and she was far from home and, it seemed, from hope. Even Merlin, her friend of many hours journeying, succumbed to bitterness. And in his wounded blue eyes, that was hard to bear.

She stood, and gathered up her cloak, and spread it over the bed of heather Merlin had found in the cave.

She turned to bid him good night, and found him standing at her side. "You're right," he said. "Hope is all we have." He gave a small smile.

Relieved, she smiled back and gave him her hand.

Merlin clasped her fingers. "Thank you." He lifted her hand and put it to his lips. "My lady."

His gallantry surprised her. She found she was blushing, and recalled that he had not actually objected to her impulsive kiss earlier on. "Merlin..."

He released her hand with a look that held more than gratitude. Mithian was aware of him standing close to her. He smelled of the flames, and ancient dust. Mithian lay her hand on his arm, and saw his eyes widen.

He took gentle hold of her shoulders. He paused deliberately, looking into her eyes, his gaze all summer blue, then kissed her mouth.

It lasted only a few moments but in that time Mithian knew his gentleness was only the part he showed to others, that beyond it was passion and determination.

"Oh," she said as he let her go.

Merlin looked a little dazed too. "Yeah."

They glanced all around the cave, recovering composure, then back at each other. Merlin smiled, and Mithian slid her arms around him, inviting another kiss, which he willingly gave.

He stroked her hair, and spread his other hand across her shoulder blades. She hung her arms around his neck, and together they inclined sideways and down until they were nose to nose on the ground, holding each other close. He laughed, and Mithian had never heard such a sweet sound. She caressed his soft black hair and thought him beautiful as well as clever.

"I thought I offended you," she said, "when I kissed you. I thought I'd made yet another stupid mistake about someone I thought I knew..."

"Nope."

They laughed, and kissed, and squeezed each other tightly.

"We ought to get some sleep," Merlin said at last.

"Yes." She smoothed her hand over his shirt, an impudent move, but he was taking the same liberty. "You first," she said.

"After you, I insist."

" Then... Good night."

She kissed the tip of his nose, then his mouth. His sweetness was mingled with hunger, and suddenly she knew her own. She kissed him more urgently than before, and felt his body stiffen. It was wrong to give in to passion, wrong to embrace a man before you were married or even betrothed, wrong to clutch him to you, murmuring his name as he covered your throat with kisses.

It was wrong and she didn't care.

She pushed him flat on his back. "What do you say, dragon lord? Do you dare to have hope?"

"Yes," said Merlin, and began unlacing her shirt.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Joy fills her. She gasps and clings to him, the wonder of his body demanding her hands, her lips, her tears. He grins, never taking his eyes from her, and they roll and tumble together in the warmth of the fire. Mithian thinks she can never let go of this miracle she has found, someone who cherishes her without the trappings of royalty or land, who is not any part of the game of power. For his part Merlin worships her, every touch gentle but sure, only following until she allows him to lead. Then all at once he draws away and lies beside her, stroking her face.

"What, what is it?"

"Consequences."

"Oh." Of course. "I think I am ruined for princely matches anyway," she says.

"That's not the point," says Merlin.

She supposes he is right. But to stop now is cruel.

He sees her plea, and laughs. "Only this," he tells her, kissing her with lips that tremble. He wraps her in one arm, and turns serious, his eyes darkening. His hand does what his body must not, and she caresses him likewise.

His closeness is sending sparks through her like the strike of the blacksmith's hammer. Soon she will be nothing but sparks, a shower of bright points shimmering to the blank ground. And she can see those same sparks in his eyes.

She never knew a touch could do such things, make her breathless, make her insistent, make her fly free. But his hand is not just touch, it is love.

He bends and kisses her, a deep kiss. She must have more of him, and uses arms, legs, lips to manoeuvre him yet closer. As the moment comes she sees fire like sunrise, and a perfect sky. "Merlin..." His eyes clench shut, then reopen, and the same fire bursts bright gold in his irises, swirling and eddying around the black. Over his shoulder she sees their discarded clothes, rising to the ceiling. Merlin's coat is flapping, horizontal, and the air jumbles with floating shoes and breeches.

He is kissing her, more urgently than ever, and the sunfire blooms, fills his irises, then fades. "I love you," he breathes, and everything clatters to the stone floor.

* * *

Mithian scrambled up, grabbing at her cloak. "You have magic!"

"I would never hurt you-"

"The fire. The heather. You've been lying all along. Oh god, you work for Morgana!" She was fumbling to fasten the cloth around her, back away from him. "You bring me here, trap me with magic, seduce me- " Angry tears started in her eyes and she smeared them away.

"No!" He tugged on his breeches and stumbled after her.

"This was what the warning was about." She pictured it again, the dragon telling her not to trust false fire. It had spoken literally, for the fire Merlin made on this restless mountainside was born not of wood but magic. And the beast had perhaps meant, too, to beware of what seemed like love, but was only manipulation.

She came to the mouth of the cave. All was black outside. Even in her shock she knew that to step onto the ledge was madness. She smacked the cave wall, hurting her hand.

Merlin came up beside her, a small light floating in front of him. "It's not a lie," he said. "Morgana is my enemy just as much as she is yours. She uses magic for evil. I would never-"

"Shut up!" She could not bear to look at him. Five minutes ago she was in his arms, allowing him everything, and now she was stupid and ashamed, betrayed by her own longing for affection.

"Mithian. Please. I would never harm you. And this," he gestured at the dim cave, "this was not what I meant to happen, I never thought it could happen, no matter how much I..."

She glared at him.

"In the forest," he said. "You said you trusted me."

"I did. Before it turned out you were a sorcerer. How did you learn magic?"

"I was born this way," said Merlin.

"I believed you," she said. "I thought you cared for me."

"Why would I pretend something so stupid?" He cried. "Why would I risk my job, my life at Camelot, to pretend I loved you , if I didn't? I'm the most powerful sorcerer in all of Albion, why would I bother with love when I could just use magic to force you to do whatever I wanted?" His voice cracked. He spun on his heel and whirled back into the cave.

Mithian's heart beat hard.  _Beware false fire._

Marriage contacts and unpleasant suitors. The promise of gold and the emptiness of her heart. A life of following the rules, or no life, holed up somewhere in a nun's cave less comfortable than this - and without Merlin and his unhappy, honest eyes.

She sighed.

Life is mostly pain, the dragon said. She had found a little space with only happiness. Could she cast it away? Did she believe this man?

She followed the glow of the fire back into the cave. Merlin sat by the fire. He hugged his knees, shivering despite the warmth, and said nothing. As she sat beside him he glanced up at her. Tears streaked his cheeks but he made no move to brush them away.

He was like that, she thought. His impulses were to openness, not deceit. How hard his life must be, to hide his nature every moment. The pain in his eyes tore at her heart. But she must understand everything. "The fire," she said. "You made it. With magic."

He nodded, his head drooping.

Mithian said, "I knew nobody had carried a load of heather up a mountain."

His head jerked up. She took his hand and squeezed it and his fingers curled eagerly around hers.

"Sorcerer and dragon lord," she said. "Is there anything else?"

He shook his head. "You already discovered my other secret." He lifted their clasped hands, brought hers to his mouth.

"Who else knows?" she asked.

"About the magic? Nobody. -My uncle. About you? Anyone who looks at me, probably." He gave a rueful smile. "What will you do now?"

Mithian paused before replying. Her duty was to report such sorcery to Arthur at once. Her duty was to capture the dragon and employ it in the war against Morgana. Her duty was to condemn Merlin and all his kind.

Her duty was to marry power and produce strategically useful heirs for her small kingdom, and she was planning to ignore that obligation as well.

"Now," she said, "I'm going to ask you to make the fire a bit warmer, and then I'm going to get comfortable and go to sleep. In fact, I'm going to demand that you provide something softer than heather for us to rest on, now that plausibility is no longer an issue."

Merlin blinked, then held his open palm towards the flames. He murmured a word, his eyes flaring that fascinating gold once more, and the flames hissed and spat, and heat spread rapidly through the cave. Another word and a stack of neatly folded goosedown mattresses appeared in the ground beside Mithian. "Camelot's laundry won't miss those until morning," he said.

Mithian set about arranging the covers. Merlin knelt to help her. "What will you do," she asked, patting down the lumps, "now that you know my secret?"

"Your secret?"

"That I really have no interest in marrying for advantage."

"I'll win your trust back," he said. He gave the mattress a final shake. His side was perfect, the result of long years of preparing royal pillows.

"Start now," she said. "Tell me about dragons."

"All right."

They settled among the covers, and Mithian lay her head on Merlin's chest. His arm curved naturally over her shoulders.

"The dragon likes mischief." Merlin said. "He's led a long and lonely life. He's the last one."

"Like you, dragon lord," said Mithian.

"Not necessarily," said Merlin. Mithian lifted her head. He quirked an eyebrow at her. She gave a mock frown at his presumption. "Shall I carry on?"

"Yes. Please."

Merlin caressed her shoulder with his thumb, and continued. Mithian listened to his heartbeat, slowing as he spoke of dragons, and magic, and all the things which made up his strange life. Mithian's thoughts blurred like the world beneath a dragon's wing. She murmured a goodnight into Merlin's shirt as his soft voice went on.

* * *

At dawn the sky was pink, the sun dazzling white, the earth readying itself for winter. Mithian sat sharpening her hunting knife, and Merlin stood by the lip of the ledge, watching the sky.

The dragon soared in front of the rising sun, performed a perfect loop and came crashing down to land in the eyrie. "I see you have made your decision," it said, looking from Merlin to Mithian. "So, is magic to be declared, and your secret ended for all time?"

"No," said Merlin. "It's better to keep it hidden, for now. I can surprise Morgana with my strength."

"I see. And the female, the not so lonely maiden? What of her?"

"I can speak for myself," Mithian said, rising and standing beside Merlin.

"So I see.  _Maiden_." The beast leered at her.

"I have given up my quest to marry," she said.

"Indeed."

"To marry any but the dragon lord," she said.

The dragon blinked.

"Take us to Princess Mithian's lands at Nemeth," Merlin said. "We will send word to Camelot from there."

"We will plan, and practise, and forge a strategy to defeat Morgana," said Mithian. "And when all is in place, we will tell Camelot of our idea and invite them to join us as allies. Allies in the use of magic to defeat magic."

"You risk a great deal, princess," said the dragon. " Civil war. A breach with Camelot. You place a great burden on hope."

"Hope is better than despair," she said.

The dragon threw back it head and made a sound like rocks tumbling down a screw slope - its strange laughter. "So you believe," it said. "Very well. I will take you."

Merlin turned to Mithian. "I will always choose hope," he said. "From now on."

She smiled, and clasped his hands. "As will I."

He flicked his fingers at their camp fire and extinguished it. "Let's go."

They climbed onto the dragon's back, and as they sprang into the winter sky Merlin clasped Mithian close. "The fire may be false," he said, "but how I love you is real."

The ground dropped away beneath the dragon's wings. Mithian saw Albion, the patchwork of kingdoms and hunters' forests and wild mountains, ready to be changed at the hands of a man who wielded magic for good, and a woman who understood hope and despair better than any. " I know," she said, and the dragon swooped for home.

_FIN_

* * *

_Author's note:_  I hope you liked this short fic. The tense change during their love scene in the cave was on purpose - did you notice? Let me know if you think it worked. Also sorry for Merlin's Lady Gaga moment, I couldn't resist. Now it's nanowrimo time again, so busy busy for me. Please review! Thanks. -Sef

 


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